Waltz of the Wantons

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

Preparing For Passion

“Is the list complete?” Aunt Caroline looked up from the typewritten column of names.

“Of course,” Uncle Gerritt said around his stubby cigar. He folded his hands across his moderate paunch and settled deeper into the bulky upholstery of his chair.

Richard turned from the large parlor window and shrugged. “I will leave all the details to you. This will be the first Annual Autumn Ball since I arrived this Spring. Do we have enough girls to entertain our male guests?”

Uncle Gerritt chuckled, the cigar ash dribbling onto his tweed vest. “Just got twelve more last night while you were in town posting the invitations. Captain Farrold brought them in on his schooner, as usual.” He closed his eyes and grinned. “Tried out three of them already. Stripped them naked and strapped them down on the benches. Screamed like hell, they did. Bucked against their straps like wild ponies. But I made sure they found out what a real man’s c**k feels like in their pussies.” He nodded at Caroline’s scowl. “Don’t worry, I didn’t touch the three virgins. I know you wanted them saved for our highest-ranking guests.”

Richard glanced at Miss Ballard. “Will they be trained in time for the party?”

She abandoned her usual frown for a rare smile. “Yes, Sir Richard. I earn my title as ‘Mistress of Discipline’.” She slapped her heavy riding crop into the palm of her hand. “I worked on all of them last night,” she glanced at Gerritt, “when your Uncle wasn’t busy f*****g them.”

Uncle Gerritt opened his eyes and winked at Richard. “Crom, Gregor, and young Barth are down in the cellar working them now. If it wasn’t for the soundproof doors, you could hear those wailing girls all the way to the village of Lympwyk.”

Richard turned back to the window, looking out over the meadows and moors of his south-west Scotland estate. “As Laird of Blackthorne House, I must be sure all our guests’ desires are fulfilled at the Autumn Ball. Do we have enough captive young men to pleasure the women guests?”

Aunt Caroline looked over the top of her fashion magazine. “Only a few, but they know what is expected of their tongues.” She sighed and smiled. “I personally tested each of them. All the ladies will get what they come here for.”

Selby, the venerable butler, hurried in through the archway. “Sir Richard, message for you, Sir.”

Richard took the envelope from the tray and tore it open.

“Good news?” Treise asked from the couch, sitting up and pushing away the maid who had her head far up under Treise’s skirt. Miss Ballard scowled at the maid. The scanty-clad wisp of a girl wiped the glistening nectar from her lips and chin and scampered out of the parlor with Miss Ballard following her.

“It’s from, uh...you know, his Lordship, the...”

“Speak no names, Richard.” Aunt Caroline put a finger across her lips.

Treise jumped up from the couch and vaulted over beside Richard. She grasped the edge of the letter and stared at it. “Isn’t he that fat, old man who staked me out on the ground in the goat pen last year, then smeared my breasts and p***y with honey?”

Aunt Caroline shook her head. “No, not him, my dear.”

Uncle Gerritt tried unsuccessfully to keep from smiling.

Treise snarled at him. “You enjoyed watching, didn’t you, you bastard!”

He laughed. “I really envied those goats, you know. It was the only time I ever regretted not being one of them myself.”

“Why did you let him do that to you?” Richard asked.

“Had to,” Treise murmured.

Uncle Gerritt sat up and leaned forward. “It was a party. We all played cards for each other’s bodies—you know, loser becomes the property of the winners until sunrise the next day. Lots of fun, and much more exciting than Bridge. Treise lost.” He laughed while shaking his head.

“He cheated!” Treise spat out.

“So did you,” Uncle Gerritt said between his snickers, “but he was better at it.”

Aunt Caroline gestured impatiently. “What does he say in his letter?”

“Just a lot of tosh; flattery and the like,” Richard answered. “Basically, he’s begging for an invitation. Listen to this, ‘I enjoy the fervent affection of vivacious women whose total attire consists of nothing more than a string of pearls’.”

“Do we want him?” Treise asked.

“Absolutely not!” Aunt Caroline said. “The man’s a complete and total bore, in bed and out. Spends the whole evening whining about how he can’t get it up, then blaming every woman in the shire for his problem.” She sniffed. “And, he has gout!”

Treise cupped her breasts and waggled them. “I’ll bet I can get his c**k to dance the squirt waltz.”

“You’re on!” Gerritt said. He propelled his middle-aged bulk out of his chair with surprising agility and strode over beside her.

“Get your smutty hand off my ass,” she said.

“If you don’t like what I’m doing to it, why didn’t you step away?” He laughed and stroked her chin with the forefinger of his other hand. “If you get him to erection, and he cums more than once, my body is yours for a day and a night.”

Treise made a motion imitating Miss Ballard slapping her crop into her hand. “I’d like that,” she replied.

“If you don’t get him to c*m at least twice,” Gerritt continued, “your body is mine for a day and a night.”

“Agreed.” The smile disappeared from Treise’s face.

“Wait, I’m not finished. If you can’t get his c**k in full erection,” Gerritt extended a finger, twitching, but slightly curled downward, “—this isn’t good enough—” he straightened it, rock-hard, “like this, then I get to play with you for two days and two nights.”

Treise scowled, “That’s not fair! You said I’d get you for only one day and night.”

Gerritt gave her a smug grin. “I have a bigger imagination than you do. My perverted ideas will keep you sweating in anguish for forty-eight hours.”

“No!”

“Afraid you’ll lose?”

“I wouldn’t”

“You will,” Aunt Caroline said. “Lord so-and-so’s c**k is brain-dead. He might as well cut it off and donate it to the British Museum. Even your p***y can’t bring it back to life.”

“Told you so,” Gerritt crowed. “Admit it, you’re not cupid’s gift to the impotent.”

“I can so! I can seduce any male with c*m in his balls. There isn’t a c**k in the Kingdom I can’t control.”

“If that’s true,” Gerritt replied, “Then agree to my terms and let me watch you do it.”

“Careful, Treise,” Richard said, “Uncle Gerritt is as mean and cunning as you are, and he may cheat by slipping a pretty maid into His Lordship’s bed the night before.”

Treise scowled at Richard, then turned back to Gerritt. “He can’t be alone with a female or f**k one for a week before I get him.”

“Agreed.” Gerritt was still grinning.

“I get to chain him down on a special bench, don’t want him wandering away when so much is at stake. And, I spend the night with him alone. I know you would like to sit in a chair next to us, heckling our performance.”

“I must be able to watch.”

Aunt Caroline nodded. “We have a two-way mirror between two of the bedrooms, Gerritt can watch through it, and not make a sound. His Lordship would not know he’s being seen.”

“Agreed?” Gerritt asked, patting his manhood.

Treise exhaled a long-held breath. “Agreed.”

Gerritt grinned and bowed to the applause of the others. “Shall I send him the invitation to hell, or would you rather deliver it in person?” He laughed.

“Bastard!” Treise stormed out of the parlor, nearly knocking over Addy, coming into the parlor through the archway.

Addy rubbed her dark-circled eyes and yawned. “My, what was she upset about?”

“Tricked her again,” Uncle Gerritt said with a chuckle. “I’m going to enjoy harnessing her to my racing sulky and trotting her to the end of Blackthorne Estate and back. That’s twenty miles, or more. If she slows down, I’ve got that nice, long, horse whip. That cute ass of hers could use a bit of punishment. Then I’ll chain her wrists and ankles, spread her out in the stables, and let the lads have a go with her.”

Richard grinned and shook his head. “I agree, her ass needs a good whipping. She’s been getting too smug and self-important lately. Aren’t you going to join in with the stable boys and have a bit of fun with her yourself?”

“Not right away...want to taunt her about that and let her worry a bit.”

“Assuming you win the bet,” Caroline said. “When she was initiated last year, she coaxed eighty-year-old Pitney, the gardener, into a huge erection. He sprayed c*m all over her breasts.”

“Pitney?” Richard asked.

“He died just before you came to live here. Replaced him with that young man, Ives. Poor Pitney, he was struggling to c*m for the fourth time one night, and had a heart attack. Died in the gentle arms of our little Fiona. She felt terrible about it. She wept unceasingly at his funeral.”

“Well,” Gerritt said, slapping Richard on the back, “all this talk about me getting Treise has made me horny. You haven’t seen the new girls yet, let’s you and I have a peek at them. I’ll let you choose whom to f**k first.”

“Remember,” Caroline said, “We have a buyer arriving this afternoon. You’re supposed to have the girls for sale displayed in the stables. Don’t forget, and don’t be late.”

Gerritt gave her an exaggerated salute, “Aye, Captain Caroline, we always does our duty with a che-e-erful heart, we does!” The two men sauntered out through the archway.

Addy yawned and sank into the sofa. “Remind me never to play cards with Ives again. He beat me four times out of six. Spent the whole night in his cottage... f***s like a stallion. It was fun the first three hours, but he just kept rolling me over and going at me again. Gawd, I ache all over, front and back.”

“I’ve warned you about him. Why do you keep making such foolish promises when you play? You certainly enjoy putting yourself at risk.”

“It’s fun, Auntie. I can make a man do anything I want if I promise him enough.”

“You’ll soon find yourself in more trouble than you can handle, if you don’t learn to stop being such a silly little temptress.”

“Oh, Auntie, that’s what Blackthorne House is all about, having fun with bondage s*x. I never had this much fun at that stupid girl’s school Daddy sent me away to.”

“It’s a good school.”

“No boys! No c***s to tease.” She sat up with a gleam in her eye. “Cousin Treise has been teaching me how to tie up boys and hurt their c***s. I love to make them struggle and squeal. Treise showed me where she keeps her special toys. She clamps them around a man’s c**k and...”

“Just be careful. Some men don’t like it when a saucy little girl torments their manhood. They can be very vindictive if they trap you in a place where we can’t help you.”

“I can handle any man.” She giggled, “I love handling men, especially the place where they are the most vulnerable.”

“You’re still just eighteen years old, and you’ve got a lot to learn about men.”

Addy grinned wolfishly and fluttered her bright blue eyes. “I’ve already learned a lot. I know how to make a c**k tremble with fear, and I can make them c*m whenever I please.”

“Well, let’s go find our cook, Lara, and have her make you some breakfast. After such a busy night, you must be starved.” The two women left through the arch, still talking as they disappeared down the hallway.

The parlor was silent. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, their steel bars designed to prevent trespassing, or escape. Family portraits hung over the fireplace, and covered the walls on each side. Staring down from the largest frame, gilded and set in honor above the mantelpiece, was Richard’s grandfather, Sir Robert Cailean.

Next to him in the painting stood his pretty young wife, Claudette. Now in her nineties, she was a shadowy presence in the mansion, appearing at dinner, then retiring to her room again afterward. A rich horde of memories flow through her mind, still sharp and clear in her last years.

Sir Robert was the founder of the family business; buying and selling pretty young girls, and enjoying their bodies between transactions. He was born in this very house on June 20, 1837, the same day that King William IV died. Robert’s life began as Victoria became Queen and ruled over her glittering empire. When he was five years old, his father was killed in Afghanistan, serving as an officer in Lord Auckland’s army.

On the right is the portrait of his son, Richard’s father, Sir Drake Cailean. Sir Drake took his first breath in 1871, the year P.T. Barnum created his famous circus. He was attracted to the excitement and spectacle of Barnum’s show, and decided to transform the family’s white slavery business into a circus of the flesh.

He made a contract with the satyrs, half-dwarf men—half animals. He discovered them living in caves under the estate vineyard growing north of the forest. They provided a magical aphrodisiac wine, in exchange for protection and the occasional loan of a pretty girl. Chained naked to the stone platform in the middle of a circle of standing stones hidden deep in the forest, she was their s****l toy for one evening.